


made of nebulas and novas and night sky

by Cloudy



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Saguru is a SAP, This is the most fluffy thing I've written in months, and i love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 04:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6456430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudy/pseuds/Cloudy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rainy evening sometime in the future, Saguru reflecting on how Kaito affects him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	made of nebulas and novas and night sky

**Author's Note:**

> I like using songs as inspiration.  
> Listened to Eric's Song and Never Look Away, both by Vienna Teng.

Patter of rain, gloom-dimmed light filtering into the room, lazy. It inspires a sluggish mood, keeps him from pulling himself out of the bed he’d collapsed into forty minutes and twenty-two seconds ago when a distant turn-click of a lock alerts him to the return of his everything.

He considers feigning sleep, though in the end, can’t help but turn. Can’t help but angle himself to face the door from his comfortable position on the bed, seek his sun, take in his light. And then the door opens, and heavy lids suddenly become easier to keep open. Saguru smiles, warm, greeting a cheer-filled face.

He wonders now whether Kaito had a good day or if he’s just banishing the exhaustions of the day from the bedroom. He fights the urge to reach toward him, and doesn’t quite win—arm loosely outstretched, fingers met with a smaller hand after his lover takes a couple of strides toward him.  Wordless greetings exchanged via the squeezing of palms and the meeting of warm amber and bright violet. And then the faintest of tugs, and Kaito had joined him, laid upon him with the grace of a cat settling decidedly for a nap.

Saguru used to think it strange, how well he felt they fit together. Now, he still sometimes did, but he felt more at ease about it—them truly fitting. It was difficult to doubt when he felt Kaito nuzzling his face in his chest, saw him peek up at him through impossibly long eyelashes.

Skepticism, in those eyes.

“Hm?” Saguru’s inquiry came out a low rumble, soft, cocking a brow in quiet bemusement.

Muffled near-nonsense that took him an extra beat to decipher: “Did you remember to eat tonight?”

Sheepishness at the fact that he needed to be asked, a warmth in his chest at the fact that Kaito cared to, though. “Yes, I remember—but I should be asking you that, too. Late nights for both of us.”

He sincerely hoped, if he was being honest, that Kaito had indeed remembered to eat, because he wanted nothing more than to lay here holding onto him. Though, if Kaito had forgotten his dinner, it would be no great difficulty to drag him out of bed if only to ensure a pleasant meal. Saguru would take time with Kaito however he could get it.

“I did too,” uttered with a hidden smile, and then Kaito was propping himself up, and Saguru suddenly melting at fingers carding through his hair, massaging his scalp. Kaito’s face hovering over his, centimeters away. He was drowning in indigo (the dim lighting catching his eyes differently, making the gaze darker, bluer), and Kaito’s hair, due for a haircut, tickled his forehead.

He knew Kaito like the back of his hand, but he was still not easily read. How could one ever fully comprehend the someone in their life that was _everything_ , after all? Thus he wondered—what, right now, was going through Kaito’s mind. And could Kaito tell what was going through _his_?

It was embarrassing to admit the extremity of his mind’s voice, so he certainly hoped Kaito knew without him having to say ( _knew_ Kaito knew, really—at least, knew how he affected him by now, even if not the explicit word-for-word commentary of _how do you exist_ ).

Voice like bells, speaking as well-timed as ever, “You look happy.” A gentle observation, voice warm. “Did you have a good day?”

“Tiresome, really. Busy day, boring day. The last four-point-two minutes of my evening have been delightful, though.” A charming (sappy, sappy, not charming at all) smile, eyes softer for Kaito than for anybody else.

Kaito staring into his face, taking him in—he could _feel_ it, Kaito studying every detail of him. It was a strange sensation, to know his very existence was being savored. Saguru was certain he’d never be used to it.

“’S that so?” Bright, genuine grin—toothy, but soft, melting into warmth and chastely meeting his mouth for but a second and some change. “I can’t imagine what made those minutes so great.” Voice laughing, happy tinge of sarcasm colors the words. “Though, I know my day vastly improved when I got home, too.”

The nuzzling of Kaito’s face into his neck. _Home_. He is home, and that’s a feeling he never felt, not before _him_.

Silence for a few hearbeats’ time, and Saguru turns his face so that he nestles his cheek against Kaito’s, and he can see, this close, that one or two of Kaito’s dark, dark hair have gone silver. Stress and age, recovery and growth, manifesting. And he gets to see it.

No real answer to Kaito’s words, no banter. Instead, softly, murmured like a poorly-kept secret, “You make me happy.”

“I love you,” murmured in response, sincerely as it always is, Kaito’s soft voice right at his ear, the breath giving him goosebumps.

Every part of him seemed to swell, and he was too full of—something. His heart full of love, mind and mouth and lungs full of words, all amounting to everything that Kaito does to him, everything that Kaito makes him feel that he never felt before him.

He would never let go. He would never look away. How wonderful it was, to hold everything that mattered in his arms.


End file.
